Smoke Gets In Your Eyes
by Kurissyma san Tybalt
Summary: Sometimes love is... just love" - JJ/Emily, Morgan/Garcia pairings. An unconventional solution to two very large, very present elephants in the room...


_**A/N... A first Emily/JJ fic, please be kind ;)**_

Even as she knocked on his door Prentiss knew innately that, for relationship issues, Reid was possibly the member of the team least apt to advise her. Then again, she reasoned, it wasn't so much experience that she needed to hear from him but the facts. She needed to know what she felt, why she felt it, and if possible, how she could stop it. She was at her wits end, with nowhere left to go, no guidance left to beg. If all failed here she'd be out on a limb, embarrassed and lost. She prayed it didn't come to that.

"Agent Prentiss—"

Prentiss shook her head sharply as he made to greet her formally, halting him, informing him that she was present on purely personal matters. "Emily," she corrected him. "I asked Garcia for your address. I'm sorry. I need to talk to you."

Curious though he may have been, Reid had the grace to invite her in, rather than to question her on her doorstep. Prentiss was glad of the privacy his small, tidy apartment afforded them.

"Is there a problem?" Reid asked, gesturing to a couch across the room and blushing as he realized that it was covered to the last inch with books he had been reading that evening. "Let me clear them," he apologized, and Prentiss stood stiffly while he worked around her. "There."

"Thank you," she acknowledged as she sat in the cleared space, and she wondered briefly if he would sit beside her. He didn't, rather, he paced the room momentarily and then took a seat on the coffee table directly across from her.

"Agent— Ahem… Emily. What brings you here?" he asked, coughing uncomfortably. The word '_unannounced'_ floated around the room unsaid.

"I need you to give me some reliable statistics," Prentiss revealed, closed body language displaying a discomfort on par with, if not greater than, his own. "The Internet is hardly without its bias, but I hoped that you might have read something…?"

"I'll try my best," Reid promised. "And if not, I'm sure I can find you something—"

"Thank you, Reid," Prentiss interrupted. "I'd like to keep this as brief as possible. You can imagine that it's awkward for me, but I'd like to hear anything you might know about homosexuality."

She said it firmly, without flinching, but her posture said different of her inner expression. Her arms were crossed over her chest and though her back was straight her shoulders hunched over slightly. He watched her attempts to maintain her usual countenance, but didn't have the heart to tell her how badly she was failing.

"From a psychological standpoint," Reid began, and Prentiss was relieved to hear his familiar matter-of-fact tone, "I've read extensively on the subject. Mostly because, as I suppose you might gather, the human mind and its various nuances are of great interest to me… Hence the profession."

Prentiss nodded, trying her best to maintain eye contact. "What can you tell me?" Those eyes betraying anxiety, hope, dread.

Reid coughed again as he gathered his mental sources. "Of course, due to the social stigma associated with homosexuality it's hard to accurately gather statistics on the subject, but as far as we've been able to tell in recent years anywhere between 2 and 13% of the population may be affected." He cut off, realizing that '_affected'_ was the wrong word, but unable to come up with a better one. He grimaced apologetically. "A major survey in 2006 suggested that approximately 20% of the population anonymously reported some homosexual feelings, though comparatively few actually identified themselves as a 'homosexual'."

"What does the psychology say?" Prentiss enquired. "Is it at all voluntary? If so, if not, to what degree?"

Reid considered the delicate issue at hand. "Until 1973, homosexually was still listed as a _disease_, by which logic it must necessarily be involuntary, but this assessment was dismissed by the American Psychiatric Association in lieu of evidence stating that 'As homosexuality per se implies no impairment in judgment, stability, reliability, or general social or vocational abilities' it cannot be classified as a disease. Following from that however, it's actually suggested by most modern scientists that our sexuality is innate, and there's almost no evidence that factors like… abnormal parenting, sexual abuse, or other adverse life events influence sexual orientation."

Reid paused here to consider her expression. Was this what she wanted to hear, or the opposite? He had no way of knowing and he was concerned. Her visit was clearly personal, but if she was worried that she'd done something wrong to encourage abnormal feelings in herself then certainly she would be more relieved to find that the majority of science claimed sexuality innate. The other option was that she was unhappy because she _wanted _it to be a choice, perhaps in order to reciprocate feelings that she thought she ought to reciprocate, or so that she might choose to free herself from the social menace…

"So what you're saying is that there's no choice in the matter?" Prentiss confirmed broadly, interrupting the doctor's thoughts.

Reid hesitated at the absolute.

"I wouldn't say that there is 'no choice' at all," he disagreed, "Because I don't know nearly enough about the subject to tell you that." Beside him, Prentiss sighed in frustration. "I can tell you that it _is_ possible to ignore one's sexuality, perhaps by practicing celibacy, and that many homosexuals marry members of the opposite sex happily enough in order to appease their families, peers, communities, even to the extent of having children. But I think the people who press the idea of sexuality being a choice the most are those who don't want there to be nothing they can do, who feel helpless against their own sexuality or that of their friends or families. For example, it's common for parents to tell their children that homosexuality is a phase, or a disruptive behaviour like drinking or smoking and that they can make the positive choice to get out of it… I can't speak from experience, but I don't think it works like that."

As Reid struggled to maintain decent eye contact with the evasive woman, he wondered how he could help her without knowing so much as the reason she was there. Information, after all, could be interpreted in countless ways if the mind was persistent enough, and it was just that sort of versatility of mind that fed the delusions of the unsubs it was their job to catch.

"In fact," he went on, becoming anxious at her silence, "Last year the American Psychological Association Task Force on Appropriate Therapeutic Responses to Sexual Orientation conducted a systematic review of the peer-reviewed journal literature on sexual orientation change efforts and concluded that such efforts to change sexual orientation are unlikely to be successful and involve an actual risk of harm. Major US, UK and Australian professional and scientific organizations are corroborating this conclusion." Again, Reid coughed awkwardly. "Emily, if this is about someone you know… please consider the reasons why you are friends with that person, the good reasons, and don't try to change them based on something so inconsequential." He hoped she realized that he was offering her the same advice regarding herself, without being so bold as to suggest they were talking about her. "Sometimes you've got to believe that love is just… love, you know?"

The silence on Prentiss' side prevailed a few minutes more until eventually she slumped entirely, lost all sense of the balance and posture she'd been trying so hard to maintain. "What you're saying," she said to the hands, once neatly folded and now turning over each other anxiously, in her lap, rather than to Reid's own face, "Is that there's nothing I can do. It would be '_harmful'_ for me to force myself to stop loving her…"

Immediately, Reid began to panic, glad of the trust, but unsure how to counsel her. In the quiet moments after Prentiss' admission, he was saved as she went on.

"You're right… It's hurt, and there's no change to show for it." Prentiss shook her head and let out a small, humourless laugh. "Now that I know it's hopeless I'm not sure whether I'm disappointed there's nothing I can do, or relieved that there's nothing wrong with me," she admitted. "Thanks for your time, Reid."

Reid blanched and stood up quickly, unwilling to let her leave in this manner. As she looked up at him in quiet confusion he wondered what he could possibly say to her. "It's not healthy for you to try and change yourself." He repeated his scientific conclusion on a more intimate level. "That's what you've been doing, isn't it? At the BAU we all notice how you try to perfect this _image_ of what Emily Prentiss should be. You try to fit into a box with no outlying devotions. Everything has to— has to _fit_ in that box. But we don't care; we just want you to be _you_. I mean, I— I can't say this elegantly enough, Emily, but you have to understand… If you're gay, you're gay. _What_ you are doesn't change _who_ you are to us."

He was right, it wasn't the most elegant of speeches, and his nervousness made it even more maladroit, clumsy, gawky. But it was enough to keep Prentiss in her seat and, relieved, Reid sat back down on his coffee table, satisfied that she would at least stay a while longer.

Two hours later over lemonade, because it was the only thing Reid had in his fridge, Prentiss found herself confessing the details of her plight, and Reid was only surprised in that he was _not_ as surprised as he thought he might have been.

Because it was all so obvious.

She was in love with _JJ_.

As she waited for his reaction, hands clenched tight around her untouched glass, she found herself sweating and she shook her heavy, dark hair away from her neck in frustration as the nervous heat rose. When he responded, it was a reply she'd not been prepared for— perhaps the _only_ reply she'd not been prepared for.

"I understand," he said simply. "She's gorgeous. I liked her too at first. Ironically, the reason I gave up is that I saw how close she was getting to you… I'll admit, I never suspected anything other than a close friendship, but I realized that if I hadn't even got so close to her as to constitute that, then she probably wasn't interested." He laughed, but humorously, almost in relief, not in the self-deprecating manner that she often did herself. "I'm glad that there's actually something there. It means that maybe my level of intimacy is the one appropriate for a 'friend'. Maybe yours is something more, as opposed to mine being something less."

Prentiss shook her head sadly. "Reid, I didn't come here because I wanted to be reassured that I wasn't wrong, that it wasn't my fault. I've come to believe that there's nothing innately wrong about loving another woman…"

"Then why…?"

"I was hoping you could tell me how I could stop it anyway," she admitted. "I know it's not wrong, but I can't help but feel that if I could at least reciprocate a man's attraction to me and move on I'd be all right. It's just that, I feel like I'm betraying her when it's another woman. Ridiculous, considering she likely wants nothing to do with me."

"Emily…"

Reid couldn't respond. He just didn't have the practical experience to deal with these sorts of situations. He'd tried, Prentiss knew, but she'd never entered his home expecting advice, only facts. He'd exceeded expectations already. He'd got her to say this much.

"I really am extremely grateful to you," Prentiss emphasized, and as she stood Reid knew she couldn't be dissuaded a second time. "I'd appreciate your discretion, as one last favour. Most of all, I can't allow JJ to find out this way. If she's to find out at all, it'll be when I'm safely over her, and it will be a retrospective musing… I can't face her with these emotions. The rejection would be too painful… I'd know, I've thought of nothing else lately than the numerous ways she could phrase it to me." She touched her hand to her head briefly. "I'm going to go home and get some sleep."

"I'll walk you to the door," Reid agreed, a last service.

It didn't go unnoticed.

"Thank you."

-

Shakespeare said, "Discretion is the better part of valour," yet Reid didn't feel at all courageous for keeping Prentiss' secret. It might have been loyal of him, yes, but a loyal friend keeps their friend out of prison by distracting the cops or by providing an alibi. He does what he's told, but in the end he does no better by his friend than he does by the victims that friend will take. Comparatively, he didn't believe that he was doing Prentiss any favours at all by allowing her to continue her deception, to let her pretend every day that she felt no more for JJ than she did for he himself. He certainly wasn't doing JJ any favours, not if she was prepared to respond in the way he thought she might.

In complete and utter turmoil by the end of the week, and the consequent end of a case in Nevada, he did the only thing he could do and he used his abundant intelligence to twist the meaning of Prentiss' words. It was not something that he was proud of, but something that seemed necessary to him. He chose to abide by a second definition of the word 'discretion', which implied '_tact'_ as opposed to 'confidentiality'. This, he told himself, justified bringing in Garcia. ...Tactfully.

All the same, he wasn't entirely comfortable with himself as he knocked on the door to Garcia's lair Friday afternoon, and as usual he was somewhat unprepared for the sight that awaited him.

"Come in!"

Reid froze as he heard JJ inside with his target audience. What to do? Would it be suspicious of him to request time alone with Garcia? Even as he thought it, he knew it was hopeless: he was a terrible liar. All would be revealed! Even so, as the door was opened, by JJ of all people, he found he no longer had any choice.

"Hi, JJ," he exclaimed a little too quickly, too enthusiastically. "Are you and Garcia busy at all?"

JJ glanced back at Garcia to clarify before shaking her head. "What's up, Reid? Is the team going out tonight?"

It was a fair enough question —the team did tend to spend every other Friday night together, on a case or otherwise— but at that moment the last thing Reid wanted was for the team to get involved in this. It was bad enough that he was betraying Prentiss' trust by bringing Garcia in, after all.

"No," he replied, again too quickly. "I just needed to speak to Garcia." He coughed as JJ stepped aside to let him in. "Ah… Alone please, JJ."

The women exchanged looks once again, eyebrows raised slightly. After what seemed like an eternity, Garcia agreed. "Go on then, Jayj. I'll see you and Em tomorrow at eleven thirty?"

The mention of Emily's name almost stopped Reid then and there, but he forced himself to bear through I, ever aware of JJ's suspiciously amused gaze on the side of his face.

"Sounds great," she agreed, the same suspicion evident in her tone. "See you, Spence."

Reid coughed evasively. "G'bye, JJ."

As the door closed, Garcia steepled her hands together in a gesture that exuded power, omniscience. He imagined her holding a cat, stroking it's furry back with a look of deceptive innocence. When she addressed him curiously, he almost referred to her as 'Godmother'… Reid shook his head to clear it and began to pace the room awkwardly. He felt strange standing over her but there were no chairs to be seen. Eventually, he decided he would have to speak or be exiled.

"I need your help," he admitted, frowning as she reached for her keyboard eagerly. "No, it's— it's not that. It's hard to explain. I'm betraying her just by being here…"

Garcia waited for him to continue, replacing her hands in her lap, giving him her undivided attention.

"Emily…" He coughed again, awkwardly. Garcia was well aware of this tactic, and she knew that there was nothing wrong with his throat. "Emily came to my house last night… Did you know that she's gay?" His voice ended the sentence higher than usual, not quite a squeak but certainly in the female register. "She wanted me to tell her precise statistics about homosexuality, especially whether or not it was considered a matter of choice. Uhh, you know… the old nature versus nurture debate…" He rubbed his hands together anxiously. "Uhh… Did you—

?" A cough. "_Did _you know that, by any chance?"

"Honey, I know _every_thing," Garcia replied unshaken. "Is that a problem for you? That Em's a lesbian?"

Reid was quick to recant. "_No_! No, that's not— Ahh… She's, ahem, keen on JJ…?" He trailed off, wondering if this, at least, was news to her. It didn't seem to be. "She told you too?" he wondered, a little disappointed.

"She didn't _tell_ me so much as I've _noticed_," Garcia replied vaguely. Adjusting her posture slightly to display more keen interest. "But honestly I'm surprised she went to you. Perhaps she thought I was too closely connected with JJ… not that you aren't… _Spence_." She cracked a grin, then shook her head, becoming more serious. "Is there a problem with our girls?"

"You don't think it's a problem that Emily is suffering because she's afraid JJ will turn her down?" asked Reid, a popular fellow for rejection himself. "She can't get into a meaningful relationship with other women because she feels like she's betraying JJ, even though they've never gone out…" Reid spread his arms, palms facing skyward in a gesture of helplessness. "She needs her life back, Garcia, and I don't know how to help her. I… I had to ask you."

Garcia observed him in silence for a few minutes. "Have you got the hots for Emily, Reid?"

Reid jolted backwards immediately, head wagging furiously, cheeks aflame. "No! Garcia, no! I'm just _worried_ about her! It's not fair, you know? I think— I think the _best_ thing she could do is talk to JJ about it. If she's keen to give it a go, then fantastic, if not then maybe Emily can accept that it wasn't meant to be…"

"Calm down, boy, I was just checking," Garcia replied, a small smile of satisfaction on her face. "But you know my hands are tied, right? If Emily doesn't know you've told me, I can't exactly confront her about it. What would I say? I've just come to this conclusion on my own the very day after you told Reid in confidence? Sweetie, I know you're not a great liar, but can't even you see that that couldn't work?"

Reid bowed his head, unable to look at the helpless sympathy on Garcia's face. "But there must be something we can do for her?" he supposed, a little desperately. "She's young, pretty, healthy— her life can't just end now."

Garcia stood labouringly and reached over to pinch one of his cheeks affectionately. "You're a sweet kid, Reid," she told him. "But like I said, my hands are tied. All I can do is drop a few hints, after that, you're on your own."

Reid nodded, appreciative of the effort but still disappointed despite himself. "I know. Thanks, Garcia." As he made to leave, he was struck by a thought. "Garcia?"

"Yeah, baby?"

"Have you ever considered… you know, _switching teams_?" he asked awkwardly. "Like, have you ever thought you might give it a go?"

"I dunno, maybe I would've thought about it if it weren't for that boy of yours in there. Most girls do _think_ about it, at least," she admitted. "Oblivious as he is to the sincerity behind the innuendo, though, Morgan's the only one for me. I'm on his team for life." Garcia's grin widened some. "You thinking about doubling your chances for romance, young Spencer?"

"No, no…" Reid mused, hand to his chin in surprise. "I think I just figured out a way to not only get Emily to go after JJ, but also to get Morgan to try for you…"

Garcia raised an eyebrow and leaned in closer conspiratorially. "Keep talking, G-Man…"

-

As Garcia and Reid emerged from the hallway they immediately took inventory of the staff still milling around the bullpen. JJ was talking to Emily and Morgan in one corner. Rossi and Hotch stood in another, one looking serious, and the other mischievous. All necessary were accounted for.

"Hey, guys," Penelope called out, being slightly more charismatic than Reid, "Does anyone else need a cocktail as much as I do?"

Appreciative murmurs floated around the room.

"Garcia, I refuse to be _absent_ from any place that would serve alcohol to you," Morgan chuckled before glancing back at the girls he was talking to. "What do you think, ladies? You up for that? Help me mind my baby girl?"

"Wouldn't miss it," JJ agreed brightly, and though Prentiss made no reply her affirmative was taken for granted when JJ answered.

When attention was turned on him Hotch tried to excuse himself, but he had no such excuse and Rossi was aware of such. "We're both coming," he assured them, and the agents soon settled a time and place.

When she arrived, Reid was pleased to see that JJ had done as she was told and dressed nicely. Hell, she looked downright sexy, and he wasn't the only man who offered to buy her a drink. JJ, however, had been briefed on this. She was not to speak to any man at all; she was to only have eyes for Garcia. When she'd spoken her lines to Morgan, she was going to go after her in order to make Morgan jealous. As far as she was concerned, the plan ended there. Having briefed her again, Reid disappeared into the crowd to look for Garcia.

Garcia, for her part, was doing something she rarely ever did. She was dancing, something she generally liked only in theory, something she loved to observe but rarely experienced. She wasn't supermodel-pretty, certainly not supermodel-sized (their idea of a '_plus size' _is any size larger than a size 0, after all), but she was naturally exuberant, and her confidence made her sexy to everyone who saw her on that dance floor. Suffice to say she was short of neither partners nor drinks that night.

Morgan, oblivious to the clockwork mechanisms of his friends' game plan, for the first time since they'd known him disappointed every woman who came calling for a dance, and there were plenty of them. Instead, he opted to watch Garcia, shocked by her boldness, her carefree attitude, by the fact that she was not sitting there watching _him_ as he, admittedly, loved to think that she did. As they'd expected he would, he eventually indicated her to JJ, sitting closest to him, and therefore the best recipient for his queries in the noisy club.

"Garcia's not usually out like this," he said suspiciously, not taking his eyes off her for a second. "I'm worried that someone's got something into her drink."

JJ snorted contemptuously as per her script, hiding a little smile at his assumption. "Come on, Morgan, she's _gorgeous_, she's never been short of partners if she'd wanted them. Are you seriously just noticing that?"

Obviously he was. "Why's she want to dance with them anyway?" he complained. "None of those boys are good enough for her!"

JJ smirked into her drink as she took a sip. "Maybe she's tired of waiting for _you_ to ask her…" she mentioned coyly.

Morgan was hooked. He turned so quickly in his seat that JJ almost dropped her glass altogether, he had his undivided attention on her, more serious than she'd ever seen him off a case. "Jayj, has she said something to you?"

JJ shrugged one shoulder loosely. "She may have mentioned something…"

"What? Jayj, what did she say?"

JJ cocked her head to one side, mimicking his seriousness. "Only that this is exactly what would happen if you didn't get your act together and show some interest," she let on slowly.

Morgan seemed to be struggling with himself and at that moment JJ flashed a signal under the table. Immediately Garcia excused herself from her partner and sauntered up to the table, beaming as she caught Morgan's unmoving gaze on her face, but not quite turning to face him.

"Baby girl, do you wanna—"

"JJ, wanna dance?" Garcia interrupted him, smiling over at the woman in question as though she were the only one at the table.

"Thought you'd never ask!" JJ replied, laying on thick the enthusiasm.

Together they worked their way into the crowd, not so close to the table that the display was obvious, but not so far that it was at all difficult to see. Two sets of wide eyes followed them as they did so.

"This is DJ Rossi, lightening up the place with some real cool jazz, baby."

Morgan and Emily exchanged disbelieving looks as a slow jazz track by Ella Fitzgerald began to fill the club. What on earth…?

_They asked me how I knew_

_My true love was true…_

"They're messing with me!" Morgan erupted suddenly, slamming his fist down on the table, eyes wide and uncomprehending as JJ and Garcia began to dance erotically before them. "This is _bullshit_!"

…_I of course replied_

_Something here inside_

_Cannot be denied…_

"They're not just messing with you, they're messing with _us_," Prentiss corrected him, ready to bury her face in her hands. "There's only one person this could be the work of…"

Morgan hadn't even heard the last part. "Messin' with… Em, you and JJ…?"

…_They said someday you'll find_

_All who love are blind…_

"I wouldn't put it that way," Prentiss sighed, leaning back into her chair hopelessly. "I love her, but there's no chance she feels the same for me. I'm supposed to get worked up that she's out there with another woman, you're supposed to get worked up that she's out there at all. You're so used to her being so completely _yours_ that you can do anything you want, with anyone you want, and she'll never leave you, because she's _incapable_ of leaving you. You can't blame her for wanting a little more, for trying to free herself from that sort of damaging relationship…"

…_When your heart's on fire_

_You must realize_

_Smoke gets in your eyes…_

"Whoa, whoa, girl, hold up," Morgan interrupted, clearly hurt. "You think our relationship is _damaging_?"

…_When your heart's on fire…_

Neither of them was watching their loved ones anymore, but were each intently focused on the other. "Well… _yeah_," Prentiss replied unapologetically, frankly. "She's head over heels for you, Morgan. You've got to take some responsibility and either tell her that she's barking up the wrong tree or show her how much she means to you!"

…_You must realize…_

"I… I try to tell her," Morgan admitted, avoiding her eye contact. "But all we know is innuendo, games… If she thinks it's a joke again, I don't know what I'd…"

…_Smoke gets in your eyes…_

Prentiss passed a hand over his, eyebrows furrowing slightly in a frown. "Again, Morgan?"

Morgan continued to evade eye contact, but he began to explain regardless, looking anywhere but her, and anywhere but Garcia and JJ. "She'd just come back from the hospital after being shot. You remember…" He didn't need to ask, of course she did. "I told her I was staying the night, whether she liked it or not…" He laughed quietly as he remembered. "_'Goon squad or no goon squad.'_"

Prentiss squeezed his hand and smiled at his sincerity.

…_So I chaffed them and I gaily laughed_

_To think that they could doubt my love…_

"She made a joke… something like, if I was planning to take advantage of her, I'd better let her call her doctor first, so that he could revive her afterwards." Again, Morgan found himself chuckling bitterly at the memory. "Before she went to bed, I tried to turn things around, to take it away from the sex, dammit… I _tried_. Told her straight out that I loved her… She says she loves me too, goes to bed, and the _next day_ she has a date with that bastard technical analyst, _Lynch_!" He shook his head violently. "I can't do it and be ignored like that. I can't say it twice!"

…_And yet today my love has flown away_

_I am without my love…_

Moments later, Morgan felt a hand flutter onto his shoulder hesitantly and at first, thinking that it must be Prentiss, he didn't even glance up. That soon changed.

Garcia's voice wavered as she said his name and before he so much as saw her he could tell that she was crying. Not sobbing, no, but crying sufficiently enough that it caused her voice and hand to quaver unsteady. "Morgan, I'm sorry," she whispered as he turned to face her, tears pouring down her cheeks, making tracks through her make up. "I— I didn't know!" Her laugh was a helpless babble, which turned into a hiccough as Morgan stood and wrapped his arms around her tightly, a move which she immediately reciprocated. Beside them, JJ and Prentiss exchanged smiles.

…_Now laughing friends deride_

_Tears I cannot hide…_

"Let's leave them be for now," JJ suggested, and Prentiss agreed, glancing around the club for another free table. Spotting one, she pointed it out to JJ.

"Can I get you a drink?"

"Sure," JJ agreed, smilingly. Then, after a moment's consideration: "You know, that was a nice thing Reid did for Garcia, planning all of this."

Prentiss smiled stiffly, wondering whether or not she knew the entirety of her own role in that plot. "It _was_ nice," she consented. "He's not great with his advice, but he really found a good way for them to come to it on their own."

"I don't know," JJ disagreed subtly. "I think the kid has his moments…"

Prentiss cringed visibly. Had Reid told JJ about her visit after all? Fear curled itself around her chest, constricting her, and rendering her silent.

"You know what he told me yesterday, right out of the blue?"

Prentiss wasn't sure that she wanted to know, but she nodded anyway.

…_So I smile and say…_

"He said," JJ told her, unaware of the impact her words were having, "That sometimes love is _just love_… I thought it was exceptionally deep."

Prentiss almost moaned aloud as she heard Reid's advice to her repeated by that woman, but she was halted mid-breath by something else she'd said. "He told you this yesterday?" she confirmed. "At work?" She herself hadn't seen him until that evening…

"Yes," JJ assented. "It's strange, because I was only speaking to him on Hotch's instruction— he'd said that Reid wanted to talk to me, but he didn't. He had no idea why Hotch would say something like that. Then we got talking and… boom. Out he comes with that little pearl of wisdom! …Em?"

Prentiss was in shock. She'd gone to Reid initially because _Hotch_ had advised her to… _'If you're having issues,'_ he'd recommended, _'I'd suggest Reid for company…'_ She'd never meant to take him up on it, but that day she'd felt she had nowhere else to go…

Hotch had sent them both to Reid to hear the same message? But why…?

_...When a lovely flame dies…_

"Uhh, Em, do you ever think that you might…? Would you be willing to try…?"

Prentiss shook her head in amazement. It was almost unfathomable…

"Em…?"

"Jayj… Do you want to dance?"

…_Smoke gets in your eyes…_

**_Finis_**


End file.
